


looks great, hon

by coraxes



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship, Shopping, rated for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-12 23:32:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13557906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coraxes/pseuds/coraxes
Summary: "Fjord's gonna sit his happy ass down in that armchair in the corner.  'Looks great, Hon, looks great.'"





	looks great, hon

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't gonna let [this quote from Talks Machina](https://magsides.tumblr.com/post/170403978665/wistfulwatcher-do-you-think-fjority-will-enjoy) go, are you kidding me
> 
> after ages of being alone in vaxgrog hell I'm glad these dudes are shaping up to be a popular ship

Fuckin’ markets.  Fjord swore he was the only one who didn’t love the things.

This town was the first they’d visited with a true open-air market, and after a few opportunities to make money had dropped in their laps, they actually had coin to spend in it.  So of course everyone had wanted to go, and Fjord didn’t want to stay at the inn by himself.

Nott had slipped away without him noticing; if they managed to leave the market without her being arrested it’d be a miracle.  Molly and Jester had fucked off to haggle over jewelry or something, dragging Beau along.  So that left Fjord with Caleb.

He didn’t mind spending time with Caleb.  Not at all.  He just wished it wasn’t  _shopping_ when they could’ve been playing cards at the inn or working their way through the small library Caleb carried on him.

“So,” he said, resigned, “are we headin’ to a bookshop, then?”

The wizard scratched the back of his unusually clean head.  (Even Caleb could not stand greasy hair for too long.  Especially when Jester tricked him into looking at a bucket of water and then dunked his head in it.)  “No,” he said, looking around the marketplace with a frown.  “No.  I was thinking about something, er, different.”  Caleb began walking, and Fjord followed as he continued.  “You see, we’ve more coin than all of us–or myself and Nott, on our own–have had in a long time.  And now I’ve no excuse, so I want to do something I’ve been putting off.”

Fjord waited, eyebrow raised.  Caleb had the most roundabout way of saying shit.  Sometimes you just had to let him talk things out, dramatic pauses and all, but sometimes he needed some prodding.  “And what’s that?”

“ _This.”_ Caleb pulled at the lapel of his coat.  Or, well, what was left of it.  The thing was covered in holes, just like the shirt under it.  And his boots.  And his trousers, though those were at least  _decent._ His clothes were all brown, too–not uniformly so, but the kind of brown that could only have come from dirt or blood or gods knew what else.  “I–well, I’ve no problem with a little wear and tear, but these are getting ridiculous.”

Fjord blinked.  Grinned to himself.  “Is this about–”

“The, er, titty twister, yes.”  Yesterday Mollymauk had taken a look at Caleb’s shirt, proclaimed that he needed more  _panache_ if he wanted to pull off a look that included exposed nipples, and given Caleb what Fjord had grown up calling a purple nurple. 

Appropriate, in this case.

Fjord started chuckling at the memory, and it grew into full-on laughter as Caleb turned a tired glare on him.

“Yes, yes, hilarious.  _You_ don’t have a fucking bruised nipple,” Caleb said.  He rubbed at his chest as he spoke, and Fjord’s eyes instinctively followed the motion.  Hells if he knew why a dirty wizard in rags kept catching his eye, but..  “Anyway, my clothes situation is getting a bit ridiculous.  So I’m going to buy more.”

Fjord wrinkled his nose.  At least books were _interesting._ Not to mention useful.  Still… “Alright,” he said.  “But if you start lookin’ at earrings or some shit, I’m out.”

“No need to worry about that.  Only the essentials.”  A grin darted across Caleb’s face like a cat dashing across a room.  “I’ll try not to bore you too much.” 

Together they walked toward a cluster of market stalls that sold a variety of clothing, complete with small stalls for customers to try things on.  Caleb made a beeline for the closest rack of plain brown pants; Fjord followed, crossing his arms.

“What do you think?” Caleb asked after a moment, holding up a pair.

Fjord blinked.  “Those, er, sure are pants.”  They were brown.  Didn’t have holes in them.  If Caleb wore them, he’d probably look a bit less like an overgrown street rat.

“What?  They’re—oh.  You mean trousers.  They are, at that.”  Caleb looked up at Fjord, eyes narrowed and mouth pinched as though he were trying to hold back a grin.  “There are chairs over by the stalls.  Here, take this book, sit down,” the wizard ordered.  He shoved a slim volume into Fjord’s hands and nodded in the right direction.

“I ain’t Nott, Caleb, you don’t need to boss me around,” he grumped, but went to sit down anyway.  Fjord propped the book on his knee, opened it, and wondered if he were having a stroke before he realized the script was dwarvish.  Which he couldn’t read.  “Goddammit.”

At least it didn’t take long for Caleb to take a pile of clothes into one of the changing stalls.  The attendant looked dubious at how dirty Caleb’s clothes were, but let him pass anyway.  Fjord waited, tapping the beat of a sea shanty against his knee.

He heard the rustle of clothing, the sound of tearing cloth, and a muffled curse. 

“Caleb?  Y’alright?”

“Yeah, just don’t think I can put my old things back on anymore,” he replied.  And wasn’t _that_ an interesting image.  “Hold on—here we go.” 

Caleb emerged from the stall, frowning and fiddling with the sleeves of his loose white shirt and long fitted coat.  Fjord’s head tilted, taking in the sight.

He wouldn’t have thought that a man covering up more than usual would be so...interesting.  Caleb would never win any beauty contests, but there had always been something about him that drew the eye, and clothes that weren’t full of holes drew Fjord’s eye to the right places. 

“The scarf’s a bit much, isn’t it?” Caleb asked, tugging at the green fabric where it wound around his neck.  Fjord jerked his gaze up before he could be caught staring.

“Nah.  Brings out…”  Fjord trailed off as he realized where the hell that sentence was going.  Caleb raised an eyebrow.  _Ah, shit._ “Brings out your eyes.  You, uh, you look great.”

The wizard nodded, another one of those fleeting smiles appearing on his face.  “Your flirting could use some work.  But thank you.”

Alright.  Now _that_ was something Fjord wasn’t going to put up with.  He stood, tucking the book into his pocket.  “You good to go, then?  That all you need?”

“I think so.”

“Then let’s go pay for all this.”  He stepped closer, into Caleb’s personal space, batting away the wizard’s hands to adjust the scarf himself.  “And for the record…”  He let his eyes trail upward, over the line of Caleb’s throat to his mouth.  “My _flirting_ works just fine, thanks.” 

Fjord met Caleb’s eyes; they were narrowed slightly, studying him, a little apprehensive.  He let the gaze hold for a moment.  Then he grinned and patted Caleb on the cheek.  “Bookstore next?”

**Author's Note:**

> comments + kudos are <3


End file.
